


Blood Gods

by endeni



Series: Red [2]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Angst, Blanket Permission, Emperor Hux, M/M, Podfic Welcome, Post-Movie(s), Wordcount: 1.000-3.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-09
Updated: 2016-03-09
Packaged: 2018-05-25 18:43:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6206236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/endeni/pseuds/endeni
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Be careful what you wish for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blood Gods

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pony_express](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pony_express/gifts).



Kylo's ship is approaching landing, a dark silhouette against the green of the planet below.

When he arrives, the village is utterly silent.

He strides onto the main road, following the little girl's presence through the Force.

He finds her inside a tall building. Sitting quietly on the floor, her eyes filled with tears.

A woman is kneeling in a corner of the room, a hand pressed to her mouth as if to stifle any noises.

An elderly man, with the village chief's insignia over his antennas, keeps an arm over the woman's shoulders. He bows his head toward Kylo as he enters.

They knew he was coming, he realizes.

They must have noticed the girl's powers. They had to know what that meant.

And they didn't even try to run or offer any resistance.

He thinks of the view from the ship, of the large patches of vibrant green where the Empire reclaimed cultivable land from the swamps that used to cover half the planet.

They're consciously sacrificing the girl's life to the altar of the security offered by the Empire.

And here he is, Kylo of the Knights of Ren, ready to take her life like a vengeful god of old.

He expected… He didn't know what he expected. Not this meek, blind obedience.

Kylo takes his lightsaber in hand. The girl is looking at him, fear in her eyes.

Kylo looks right back. He sees Luke Skywalker's students, lying dead on the ground.

 _No_ , he thinks, _not like this_.

“It's all right,” he whispers. He extends a hand and _pushes_. The girl's body suddenly slaps back, her head hitting violently the ground.

Kylo rises his lightsaber, moves over her unconscious body and quickly slices her neck, severing the head from the body.

He hears a high-pinched sound from the side. The mother, trying to rush forward, to free herself from the chief's grip. Kylo watches her break into hysterical sobs.

He rises his chin high and turns on his heels, black cloth swirling around him.

On his way back to the ship, he sees people slowly poking their heads out of their homes, then hurriedly bowing down and retreating inside as they catch sight of him.

Kylo knows what they're seeing. The black mask, the dark robes.

They look at him and see Vader's ghost. And isn't it what he has always wanted?

 _Not always_ , a forgotten part of him answers. Kylo viciously squashes the thought. He gets on board of his ship and makes the jump to hyperspace as soon as he is out of the atmosphere. Leaving this cursed planet behind.

 

  
When he gets back, Coruscant's sky is illuminated by the pale light of down. It makes the Palace's foreboding presence looks almost majestic. Almost.

He moves quickly past a small unit of troopers who immediately jump to attention at his sight.

Phasma is standing at the main entrance of the imperial palace.

“Lord Ren,” she greets him.

He nods back, impatient. “General.”

“The Emperor is still busy with the Merchant Delegation,” she tells him. “He left word he wasn't to be disturbed until at least an hour.”

Behind his mask, Kylo bits his lip, hard. He breaths in, tempering down his irritation and his restlessness, and nods again.

“Very well,” he forces himself to say and turns around.

An hour. Time enough to pay visit to another ghost.

 

  
The troopers standing guard spring to attention: “Lord Ren!”

He's starting to find this habit of theirs fucking irritating. Kylo is tempted to choke them both to death just for that.

He doesn't, though. He tells himself it's because his Emperor would be displeased.

He moves to the door and then stops, taking out his mask first. He wants -he needs- to be seen as himself just now.

He removes the glove from his flesh hand and places his fingers on the pad by the door. The panels slide open.

He gets in, the door closing back again behind him.

Inside, a small figure is standing by the window, outlined by the morning light.

Her hair is tied back in a tight bun, Kylo notices. He doesn’t remember ever seeing her without her customary braids. Then again, he wouldn't, would he?

“Hello, mother,” he says.

She turns to look at him.

The protocol droid steps forward with its wobbly gait. “Oh my. Master Ben! Welcome! What a wonderful-”

“I trust… I trust you have everything you need,” Kylo says, heedless of the droid's inane babbling. “If there's anything-”

“You know that I don't,” Leia interrupts him, her voice flat.

“I'm sorry”, Kylo says, “but you know that I can't allow you to have visitors other than myself.” Couldn't the last time she asked, can't now. “We can't risk you finding a way to send out a message.” To his Emperor's dismay, there are still scattered patches of the Resistance to subdue. Led by Dameron, the man who Kylo bitterly thinks of as his mother's true heir. “You're far too dangerous.”

His mother raises an eyebrow as if to say: An old woman like me?

“And so you're forcing me into solitary confinement.”

“You have the droids to keep you company,” Kylo says weakly. “And all the material comforts the Empire can offer.”

She raises that eyebrow again, unimpressed. Her mouth is pursed into a wrinkled line.

 _I saved you_ , Kylo thinks. _It's because of me that the Emperor allowed you to live._

Anything, he did anything to make her comfortable. Her droids. The best food and clothes and accommodations.

“Then, please, convey my thanks to the Emperor,” his mother says icily. She pronounces that last word like it's physically revolting.

Then, she sighs and it has the sound of a decision made.

“Get out,” her back is stiff, her voice almost cracking, “I… Just get out. I don't want to see you any more.”

Silence, broken only by the astromech's rude beeping.

Kylo thought killing one parent would be enough. Couldn't bring himself to see her dead too. But he supposes he can oblige his mother and not see her at all, if she so wishes.

His mouth moves and he hears himself say: “Should you need anything, just leave a message with the droids.”

He puts his mask back, lets himself out.

 

  
Kylo enters the throne room to find Hux still sitting at its center, talking with the delegates. When he sees him waiting by the doors, the Emperor waves them off. They pass him by to gain the way out, their shoulders hunched protectively.

Kylo comes forward. “My Emperor,” he says bowing. “Mission accomplished.”

Hux nods with satisfaction and Kylo feels suddenly, impossibly tired.

Behind his shoulders, the doors close with a resounding thud, leaving them alone in the room.

Kylo kneels down in front of Hux. He pauses a moment to remove his helmet and then surrenders to temptation, letting his head fall back against Hux's right knee.

Hux's hand goes to cradle his head, fingers slowly threading through Kylo's hair.

Kylo lets the contact ground him. In his mind, he erases all that was, all the ugliness of the day, and focuses on this little perfect moment.

“You served me well, Lord Ren,” his Emperor murmurs. “How shall I reward you?”

Kylo looks up at the words, his gaze fixing itself on Hux's wicked smile. He can feel a tight ball of _want_ setting inside his belly. A heat he sees reflected in Hux's green eyes.

He doesn't know if he's more excited at Hux's suggestive remark or at his clear praise. He thought himself to be over such basic desires, over his persistent need for approval. He's beginning to suspect he may never be.

“Come,” Hux's says and Kylo wants to devour him, wants to be devoured in turn. Soon enough they're in bed, clothes forgotten on the floor. Hux's tights are straddling Kylo's shoulders, Hux's dick in his mouth.

Fuck, he missed this.

 _Make me yours_ , he thinks as he loses himself to the sensation. The fullness, the taste, the smell.

His hands are clutching Hux's buttocks, hard. His nails, leaving scratches and little pink indents on Hux's warm body.

The thought of his Emperor parading Kylo's mark under his clothes the next day is almost enough to make him come.

 

  
Afterward, they share a sweet, lazy kiss, Kylo's larger frame wrapped around Hux's body.

Kylo tilts his head to bite playfully at a pale, freckled shoulder.

He doesn't even break skin. Yet, as he draws back, he somehow expects his mouth to be filled with blood.

Kylo licks his lips, can't seem to get the coppery taste out of his mouth. The little girl's blood.

 _It's all in your head_ , he tells himself. _All in your head._

A distant memory surfaces, a fairy tale from his childhood: the blood never goes away, no matter how much you try and wipe it out from the key. It will always come back to haunt you with what you've done.

A king, a knight, a princess in an ivory tower. He supposes it's just like one of those tales.

Except, he realizes, he's somehow become the villain of his own story.

Kylo lays his head down to rest against Hux's shoulder. _What have I done for this man_ , he thinks. Under his ear, he can feel Hux's chest rise and fall to his breath, can feel Hux's pulse beating against his skin, gently slowing as he falls asleep. _What more would I do._ His metal fingers move to trace idle patterns over Hux's belly, through his smattering of auburn pubic hair.

 _I'm yours_ , he thinks, _and you are mine._

He can't deny it, not even in the privacy of his own mind (and it's still such a novel concept to be actually granted that privacy now). For a moment, looking at the dead girl, he had thought: this is the last straw.

But he can't stop, _won't_ stop. That child won't be the last one, he knows it, and she won't be what breaks him.

He focuses back his attention on Hux's rhythmic, slow breathing.

Maybe he's just finally going mad.

A universe so devoid of color, dulled with blood, filled with ghosts and characters of a half-forgotten childhood story.

No matter. As he lays there, Kylo thinks that he would murder anyone for the privilege of holding Hux in his arms.

He's all he has left.

Kylo closes his eyes and tries to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> For pony_express, who wanted some mushy sex times and encouraged me to write a (very much unplanned) sequel to “Crimson Peace”. Except, it all turned out pretty doomy and gloomy, with some not-very-mushy sex thrown in. Sorry? *facepalm*
> 
> Also, yes, the bloodied key is a Bluebeard/Ex Machina reference, blame it on my new Domhnall Gleeson obsession LOL...


End file.
